


tomorrow (promise me)

by bittersnake



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: (BUT LIKE SUPER MILD BLOODPLAY), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Asphyxiation, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Bloodplay, Consensual but not entirely Safe, F/M, Femdom, Light Bondage, Yes Lets Fuck Our Attachment Issues Out Because That's Healthy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 02:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21292022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittersnake/pseuds/bittersnake
Summary: Jyn knows a tomorrow is possible. Now she just needs to get Cassian on board with the idea.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29
Collections: Femdom Exchange 2019





	tomorrow (promise me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Northland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northland/gifts).

> Hi [Northland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northland/pseuds/Northland)! I hope this fic is able to spark some joy and at least managed to hit some of your wishes??

In complete honesty, Jyn never expected to make it this far in life. The choices in her life had not been particularly conducive to longevity; first as one of Saw's Partisans; then as an outlaw dancing on the fine line of the edge of society; and finally as a _Rebel_ committing herself to cause. She had spent a life actively shunning commitment, regardless of what form it came in. But as her hands-- filthy and scarred-- clutched the back of Cassian's shirt feeling the tension of the muscles beneath the fabric. The smell of _him_ beneath the rust scent of dried blood, the searing ozone, and the salt of the ocean. A smell that, in a shockingly short time, she had come to associate with comfort. With security and safety. Even at the end of the road.

Except it wasn't the end.

* * *

_It's almost distressing how long his lashes are_, Jyn thinks as she takes in the display below her. Hands crossed above his head-- loosely bound with a stray cord found somewhere around the base, more for illusion than anything else-- eyes closed, lashes just lightly grazing the dark bruises below his eyes; mouth closed, the only sign of his breath being the slow rise and fall of his bare chest. 

She leans forward, her naked form barely touching his, bracing her hands against the sheets by his head. He's so still. So _obedient_. Obedience was never her strong suit, but then again, in an insurgency cell, obedience wasn't a trait that was particularly cultivated. Just a devotion to the cause. Much like the Rebellion, she reflects, as she takes in the freshly stitched laceration crossing his clavicle and just barely missing his carotid-- _it was just a vibroknife, _he said when she found him in the medbay earlier. 

* * *

The only reason she even knew to go there was because she ran into Kaytoo shambling across the flight bay. 

"Jyn Erso, There Is A 84.7 Percent Chance That You Should See Cassian In The Medbay," he says as he plants himself in front of her, his metal form looming (most likely on purpose, Jyn thought irritably).

"Why--"

"While I Have Reservations About This Partnership I Believe That Unfortunately Your Presence Will Have A Net Positive Effect On Cassian’s Overall Survival."

At that last word, she freezes. "Wait, Kaytoo--" but he had already started shambling off, and given her prior interactions with him, this was the most information she was getting out of him without a headache. Instead she left for the med bay and came across a shirtless Cassian lying prone in bed, grimacing whilst a med droid hovered by his side, busily stitching away. She knew that he knew she was there when immediately his face smoothed into a placid expression. She cut straight to the chase.

"Kaytoo said to see you," she says as she enters the sterile room, surprisingly empty for once even though the scent of bacta lingered heavily in the air.

"Kaytoo needs to be reprogrammed," a voice replies from the bed. She moves closer as Cassian begins to sit up and reach for the shirt behind him. He hisses at the sudden movement. Jyn grabs it, in his stead, while quickly surveying the scene in front of her. It’s worse than she expected. Most of the blood has been cleaned away leaving a dull reddish stain to the surrounding skin; there’s a ragged gouge across his side of his throat ending just above his breastbone, just missing his carotid artery. The bleeding has obviously been staunched; but the mass stitches and tacky clotting blood fills her with dread. 

"You said you were on a supply run," she says woodenly. 

"I was."

"I was unaware that getting your throat slashed was part of standard procedure."

At this, Cassian sighs, prying the shirt from her hands-- they're cooler than normal, _but they should be_, she tells herself-- "It's fine the supplies have been secured. There was just...a slight altercation." 

Altercations don't lead to those kind of scars. Jyn knows this and she knows that Cassian knows she knows that. 

"Fine, keep your secrets," she mutters.. 

_Just come back to me_, she thinks as she leaves him to the ministrations of the droid.

* * *

She runs her finger along the neatly formed stitches running along the length of his neck. Cassian is still but she's not surprised. While he’s not as fanatical as some of her Partisans colleagues could be by virtue of being in intelligence, she knows that his limits are far above those of a normal foot soldier. And thus, she digs her nail in. He's silent but now there's a slight tension in his frame that was absent before. Excellent. 

Jyn lets her ball of her thumb rest on his clavicle, slowly, ever-so-slowly letting her weight shift onto it, as she continues to press against his stitches, tilting her head next to his ear.

"I thought we had a deal," she whispers. "I thought that instead of living for only the mission, we would live for tomorrow. _You_, would live for tomorrow." She leans back, fingers clawing into his chest. She can feel a faint wet sensation beneath her fingertips. Jyn sees Cassian's jaw clenching but he remains silent. Mute. There's a surreal joy and pride that she feels in the pit of her stomach at that sight. Her hand begins to slide slowly up to his throat, leaving a bloody smear in her wake. She shifts her hips backwards, finally brushing against his erection, lying unattended against his abdomen. She slowly begins to roll her hips against it, slick lips moving back and forth along his length.

"What's that? Nothing to say?" she asks.

Silence. Eyes still closed; lips shut; pulse beating slightly faster as her fingers loosely circle his throat. 

"Well then, I should take what I can get now," she says as she seats herself on his cock. 

It burns going in. She's done it before, sex. Normally, she takes her time. Lets her partner work for it. But this isn't about her. 

Jyn starts to move, slowly at first, savoring the pain as she seats herself on him. The hand against his throat starts to press. Gently, at first; almost questioning; and then firmer with purpose.

"I remember when you said you've been in this fight since you were a child," she rolls her hips upwards in a steady languid motion. "You're no longer a child, Cassian." Down, drawing him back in her body, squeezing as she sinks onto him. "You're not on your own anymore." She rises again, hand squeezing at his throat. "You have things to live for now." She gradually draws the fingers of her other hand from the base of the slick length of his cock to the swollen lips of her cunt to her clit. "Cassian, look at me."

At this command, his eyes open; they're dark and intently staring at her. She begins to move in earnest, one hand squeezing at his throat--she savors the frantic throbbing of his pulse beneath her fingers-- the other frantically rubbing at her clit as she rides him, moaning softly all the while. Her eyes skims across his form; arms still in place but with a strain that wasn't there before; jaw clenched tightly; blood drying along his chest; breath dependent on how tightly her fingers squeeze. Still silent. He's been so compliant. So _good._ She thinks she's done punishing him. Punishing them.

"Cassian," she whispers as she feels the heat pooling in her belly. "Cassian, let go," she says as she releases his throat. He gasps; it's soft but it's as a crash in the silence of their room. 

"Jyn," he breathes as he wraps an arm around her waist, no longer an inactive participant, and thrusts back in counterpoint to her movements. "Jyn," he rasps against her throat as his other hand joins hers at her cunt, calloused fingers a welcomed addition against her clit. "Jyn," he whispers against her mouth as the heat consumes them.

She does her best to clean up the stitches afterwards; fingers gingerly smear bacta over the now slightly reddened laceration. "You should still get this checked in the morning," she says softly as wipes the excess ointment off on a spare cloth. 

"If it will make you happy," Cassian says resignedly, his voice raspy.. 

At this, she turns to face him; hand cupping his jaw. "What would make me happy," she says softly. "--is you coming back. To me. Alive. If not for yourself, then for me."

A beat.

He takes her hand, rubbing his thumb against the slick-smooth patch of skin on the back of her hand; a memento of sorts from Scarif. "I never planned on having someone to come back to," he begins, staring at the odd transition of textures between her skin and the scar tissue. "I never planned for a tomorrow. In a way, I'm not sure how." Cassian looks back at her. "But I'm willing to...try."

"So am I," she says against his mouth, pushing him back down into their bed. She feels his cock stir against her in interest; his gaze lustful and dark as it skims her form astride him. 

"Perhaps, I need some incentive though," he rasps out hoarsely, one hand settling at her hip; the other lightly running a finger through the slickness of her cunt.

Jyn gives him a smile full of teeth and promise. "Perhaps, I can provide it."

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit is love!


End file.
